


"partner"

by lovemuffin432



Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: M/M, One of My Favorites, Spies, Swearing, gays, i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:47:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22215796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovemuffin432/pseuds/lovemuffin432
Summary: owen and curt's first mission together (soft gays fight crime)(part of a big story i wanna write, but i could only think of this)
Relationships: Owen Carvour/Agent Curt Mega
Comments: 4
Kudos: 77





	"partner"

**Author's Note:**

> so yeah, this is actually a scene from a chaptered thing ive been trying to do, but i really like this particular scene, so here you go
> 
> translate your own bulgarian, plebs (its just swearing)

“Got the plans, Curt?” Owen whispered, as he peered around the corner at his partner. 

“Yup. Did you find anything over there?” Curt replied, gripping the file in his pocket.

“Unfortunately not. If we could find Garavito, this would be a whole lot easier, but I think he’s left the compound.”

Curt was about to respond when someone grabbed him from behind. He heard the click of a gun being cocked beside his head, and decided against fighting back. 

“Curt?”

The arm around him shifted, tightening its grip, closer to his throat.

“Curt, I swear to god, if you’re-” Owen rounded the corner, but stopped when he met not Curt’s eyes, but Maarten Garavito’s.

“Where are my files? Give them back.” His accent was thick, and he clearly spoke very little English.

“I don’t have your files.” Technically, Owen wasn’t lying. 

“ _ Lŭzhets!  _ I’ll shoot! Give them to me!” He pressed the gun harder on Curt’s temple. Curt didn’t move. 

“I’m sorry, sir, but I cannot give you files that I don’t have!” Owen reached behind his back. 

“You are a traitor to your agency, _gospodine_. You do not care when one of your own is in danger, you are _zhestok_ _i izmamen-”_

“I’m afraid you can’t insult me if I don’t speak the language, old boy.” 

Garavito roared, and pulled Curt closer. The gun was now pressed so hard against his head, it hurt. 

“ _ Shte chukam maĭka ti, kuchko _ _!!  _ I will kill him, I swear!” 

Owen cocked his gun behind his back, way too obviously. 

“ _ Ebi se!  _ You think I am a fool! Drop your weapon, _ zadnik! _ “ 

Owen relented, bringing his gun in front of him.

“Alright, old fellow, if you insist, I will lower my gun.” 

Owen began slowly moving his gun down, making eye contact with Curt;  _ Trust me, partner. _

And once again, Curt couldn’t help but trust him.

“Here we go, nice and calm. No need to get aggressive.”

Garavito grunted, but Curt felt the gun at his head slacken a little. 

“Yes, that’s it, you lower your gun, I lower mine.” Owen slowed down. “You know, I’m being reminded of an old saying I heard many years ago; ' The best way to manipulate a man is to make him think he is manipulating you.'” 

Garavito paused, confused. 

“ _ Leka nosht _ ,  _ gospodine.”  _ Owens gun was upside down now, and when he pulled the trigger, the bullet went exactly where it was supposed to.

First it hit his hand, making him pull away from Curt. Or at least he would’ve, had Owen had an older pistol, like Garavito’s old musketoon. But Owen worked for MI6, and therefore had a more precise and powerful handgun. 

The bullet went straight through his hand, and into his throat. 

Curt staggered over a bit, staring at Owen. 

As Garavito stumbled backwards, Owen shifted his gun a little and sent another bullet into his head. 

Curt took no notice of the man Owen had just killed, and instead let his instincts get the better of him, crossing the few steps towards him, grabbing his collar, and pulling him into a passionate kiss. 

It lasted for a few seconds, before Owen pulled away, shocked. 

Curt felt fear and embarrassment replace the intense confidence he had been taken by.

“Oh, I’m not - I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have - I mean, you were - I didn’t mean to - oh god, I really fucked this up, didn’t I?” Curt hung his head, feeling tears spring up in his eyes.

“No, its… fine.” Owen placed his hand gently under Curt’s chin, lifting it to look in his eyes. 

Once again, their eyes met, and a sort of magic took over them both, making it seemingly impossible to break eye contact.

Curt snapped out of it. 

“Um, we should probably get out of here.” 

“Yes, right.” Owen blinked, regaining his composure, straightening up a little. ~~ha~~

Curt checked his pocket, making sure the files were still there. They were, so Curt turned to leave.

“Oh, Curt?” Owen rested his hand on Curt’s shoulder.

“Yeah?” Curt turned back, and Owen leaned down and gently pressed a kiss on his lips.

“Thank you.” 

Curt practically melted, and reached for Owen’s hand, taking it in his. 

“You’re welcome, partner.”


End file.
